


Hic sunt Leones

by Herbeloved82



Category: The Exorcist (TV)
Genre: (not Marcus or Peter or Tomas), Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 08:44:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14161071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herbeloved82/pseuds/Herbeloved82
Summary: Marcus is back and he rescues Tomas from a terrible situation. Tomas is left broken and hurt and is up to Marcus and his lover Peter, to make sure he can heal.





	Hic sunt Leones

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnnieVH](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieVH/gifts).



> A huge thank you to Amy, Cutiesonthehorizon, and Dena for their help. They are amazing ladies and deserve all the love.

Marcus was a sight for sore eyes. Standing there, like he owned the battlefield, so unlike the last time Tomas had seen him – a man broken in spirit and body, forced to do something he couldn't forgive himself for, just to save Tomas' life – he looked like the lion he was always supposed to be. 

Tomas was exhausted but his eyes couldn't stop looking at him. His ears couldn't stop listening to the words slipping from his lips. Marcus' Latin was so fluent that Tomas could close his eyes and imagine he was back in Mexico, with his abuela, away from the horror he had learned to know too intimately. He had never realized how close Latin and Spanish were. Marcus gave him another gift, another bit of knowledge that went straight over Tomas' head for years. 

Marcus was back and he was fighting his war. There, inside a circle made of the crushed bones of martyrs and saints, alone with Bennett, Marcus was showing him another lesson. He and Mouse had been too blind to see how powerful the demon inside their friend was. Mouse had been so eaten up by guilt that she had thrown herself in a chase that almost ended in their destruction. Tomas had followed her out of loyalty not to her, but to Marcus. He knew how much Mouse meant to him and couldn't let her risk her life without trying to help. 

The lack of a real plan put them where they were now, broken, on a dirty floor that smelled of blood and human waste, bleeding and ready to be served as sacrifices for a ritual that more and more often had been celebrated. The conspiracy was bigger than what they had believed, they were outnumbered and lacked their best warrior. The demons were ready, the hunters had been turned into prey and they only realized it when it was too late. 

Tomas would have liked to claim that it had been a miracle, like a vision sent from heaven, when Marcus had arrived. The truth was it had been more like living a nightmare. Screams and the sound of bodies hitting the walls, too familiar to his ears for not recognizing them for what they were. Demons using their power to destroy the vessels they possessed. After the destruction of an immortal soul, after the loss of innocence and purity, they had no other use for the bodies. Destroying them was only one more way they had to bring chaos and sorrow to the families the targeted. 

For days he and Mouse were forced to listen, powerless. They had known all those lives lost were their fault. At first, Mouse had been furious. Tomas now knew that was her way to deal with bad things that happened to her. The fire he saw inside her was the reason why she survived six months of possession, it was what Marcus had loved so much in her and for that reason, Tomas had tried his best to keep the fire alive. He had failed and what was left of Mouse was an empty shell. A tortured soul forced to look at her mistakes for days. 

The demons had found her weaknesses and spoiled them to the extreme. A vile creature that stole Marcus' voice had defeated the Mouse of the Church. 

After days of torture, after watching countless innocent being tortured and killed in front of her eyes. After she was forced to see children's body being dismembered and robbed of their organs used to call more and more demons from hell, she had broken down. One day Tomas saw a single tear find a path throw the grime staining her porcelain skin. That had been the last time Tomas had seen Mouse. 

She had been like a ghost, barely alive, climbing to life only out of stubbornness. She had refused the food they had forced on her. She had refused the water Tomas himself tried to feed her, drop by drop. Her chapped lips began to bleed after the third day. Little by little her body began to shut down. Tomas had begged those monsters to help her. He knew it was madness to even think about doing that but he couldn't let her die in front of his eyes without trying. For his trouble the thing that wore Bennett's body had made him watch - pinned against a wall, close enough that his fingers could brush against her cold skin but too distant to do anything to help her - while the once Bishop Egan broke her jaw and choked her with putrid water. He would never forget the noise her bones made when they broke or her agonizing whimpers when less and less air reached her lungs. He would never forget the way her eyes had looked at him, full of pain and regret. 

He couldn't even remember how long ago they went to take her eyes and heart, for how long he was forced to share the place with her corpse. Black and empty sockets stared at Tomas for days now. The stink of rotten flesh had become the only scent he could remember. It imprinted into his brain, branded there by nightmares and night terrors. Slowly - too slowly in the cold air of the abandoned and dilapidated church - her body had begun to rot, under his eyes and once again Tomas could do nothing. 

Even the "Requiem aeternam" he had delivered for her soul had sounded empty. His broken voice just a whisper, an echo of how sure it had sounded while Marcus was by his side, a memory of something that was and Tomas wasn't sure could ever be again. Bennett and the others had tried, day after day, to break his mind like his body and spirit were already broken. The only thing that had kept them out of his head had been the unconscious hope that Marcus would rescue him, that Marcus didn't forget about him and he would come - a knight in a dark armor made of sassy words and a kind soul too close to the surface and an English accent to die for, - and show them that was once lost was now found again and that the Grey Lion was back to stop them once and for all. 

And there he was now, fighting against the thing that had dared to take Bennett and used him to destroy the only family that Marcus had. The same one he had tried hard to protect. Now Mouse was gone and Bennett was still on edge to be lost for good. If the demon, who called himself Haniel. The once angel of joy and pleasure, now a servant to the Morning Star and his followers, found a way to destroy everything that made Bennett one of God's sons, the exorcism would fail. 

They had used Bennett's sister, his biggest regret in life, to corrupt his soul while he was in a coma. Mouse had blamed herself and her decision of leaving him at the hospital and that was what cost her her life. Marcus was really his last hope, their last hope, and Tomas didn't have any strength left. 

His body begged him to let go, to pass out and stop fighting against something that was stronger than him. Desperation and sorrow, all the pain he had felt since the moment he became a prisoner. Tomas couldn't keep going on and yet he couldn't give up and let darkness comfort him. Sleep became a nightmare and an enemy to fight, rest and impossible goal and something that he didn't deserve, that belonged to a life that wasn't his anymore. 

He used violence against himself - a way to keep punishing himself for letting Marcus down, for leaving the path he had tried to teach him and realizing it when it was too late to come back - and forced his eyes to stay focused on Marcus and Bennett. 

They burned and were dray like someone had thrown sand into them, but Tomas kept them open and watched Marcus. It was like to see a new person that he knew well. Unlike the first time, in his dream, this Marcus was both stronger and more humble. He had learned the meaning of loss and pain. This man was someone who had been close to being defeated - who had lost everything and had been ready to give up but found a way to resurface from the ocean of despair hat tried to drown him and annihilate his existence - and had found a way to come back, to change his way and learn new ways to be strong. 

This was the lion the demons in their wholeness had feared. The one Marcus had been before Gabriel. This was an exorcist forged by the teaching of Mother Bernadette and who had learned the hard way that to be human meant to be fallible. That one single loss couldn't destroy him because he owed others his services, because he owed that to Gabriel, to keep saving people to make sure that his death wasn't for nothing. This was a man who had found love and was now ready to fight to keep it. 

Tomas felt joy growing in his heart. For the first time in too long, he felt the need to sing to the Lord because he was Great and Powerful and because he brought Marcus back to them. There was no doubt in his mind that God had finally found a way to make Marcus listen to him again. God was back by his side, once again his strongest ally, the one there to comfort Marcus in the times of dejection. Now he knew for sure that Marcus would win, how could he be defeated when he didn't doubt himself anymore? How could he be defeated when there wasn't a shadow of self-loathing in him? He had overcome the fear and depression that Gabriel's death brought. He wasn't suffering over what the corrupted church had taken from him. The way he carried himself spoke of a man that had accepted he had been wronged by someone who had the power and the possibility of crushing him but decided not to let adversity destroy his soul. This new Marcus had forgiven the blindness of men too scared to react and he was now someone who knew the difference between the Church and God after he touched it with his own hands. What God gave, only God could take and that was the reason why Marcus was still standing against the demons, destroying them one by one. His collar was lost but God's gift was still strong inside him and that was all that Marcus always cared about. 

*** 

If there was something that Peter hated with all himself was waiting To be left behind had always been hard for him, even when he was exhausted and was just back from weeks spent patrolling the perimeter or bringing aids to the civilians somewhere between the mountains of Afghanistan, to stay at the base and rest while his men were sent out was something that Peter never learned to handle. 

Now things were even worse. He didn't watch his men and friends leave. He didn't look at their back while they disappeared into reinforced vehicles. No, what he had been forced to do was even worse. He had watched while Marcus, the one he had learned to love, drove away in the night after an awkward explanation that included the words God and spoke to me again and above all Tomas. 

He felt like he already knew the younger man. Tomas had been a name that was on Marcus' lips almost constantly. For the first few days after Marcus appeared at the docks, with a new job and ready to leave a new life at least for a bit, he had spoken about his young protege all the time. 

If Peter was a jealous man, that would have rubbed him the wrong way, but he could see how much Marcus cared for Tomas, he could read in his words how much had hurt Marcus to leave him behind, how much he wanted to go back and look for him. 

Marcus had been in serious need of a break, from his past life, from all the pain and sorrow that it had brought him, from the choking self-loathing that was devouring him from the inside. In that state, Marcus couldn't even take care of himself, so Peter knew that any attempt to go back now would have ended in tragedy for everyone. convincing him to stay had been the hardest thing that Peter had done in his life. It had felt like something wrong done for the right motive. 

Marcus spoke about Tomas like an older brother, or a worried father would. He loved him but wasn't in love with him and with that Peter could live. 

Now he was there, in what became their house, waiting for Marcus to come back and hoping that Tomas would be with him. Peter didn't believe in God, not like Marcus did. He couldn't even understand what his job was about. He had seen the evilness human could commit with his own eyes and was sure that they didn’t need someone to make this planet a living hell. Sometimes humanity could be deplorable and even disgusting and was wholly capable to do it by itself. 

To think that there was an evil enemy ready to lead his army and legions against the Army of God was, in his opinion, a way to give humanity an excuse, an alibi that they didn't deserve. But Marcus believed in God and he believed in demons. His whole job was a hunt after another after another and even if it was hard for Peter to understand, he never denied his lover his full support. 

When Marcus came back with his eyes full of tears and shaking like his body couldn't contain all the emotions he was feeling now. When he had cried in his arms and his tears were of joy and not desperation, when his broken and shaking voice told him that God spoke to him again, for the first time, Peter had wondered if perhaps his view about the world and what happened in it wasn't wrong. 

He had felt something deep while Marcus was grasping at him like he was an anchor and the only stable thing, something that made him doubt and promised answers at the same time. All he had to do was to open his mind and let the truth to be revealed. For a moment he had been sure of that. Then he had to watch Marcus going away to save his cub -- for a long time, he had joked with Marcus about that name. When he had met Marcus he had been a huge house cat at the best. Peter couldn't see the lion he had been, but a few days ago, he had met the other part of his lover and could see him for what he had been in the past. A strong lion, very pissed off now, because someone had dared to touch his cub. 

"Take him home." 

That was what he had said to Marcus before the man stole his truck and drove God only knew where -- literally this time. 

Peter knew that if he wanted to keep Marcus by his side, if he wanted to be sure that the man would always come back to him, in what was his home now, he had to accept Tomas too, and somehow he didn't think that would be a hardship. If Tomas was half the man Marcus claimed him to be, Peter would be more than happy to call him friend and family too given a little time.

It was morning now, another day spent without Marcus, waiting for him to come back. Peter chuckled to himself. He was a man in his mid fifty and only now he found out that to sleep without Marcus was a struggle. He had survived all of his adult life without him and after only a few months, he couldn't even find peace in what had been his bed for almost twenty years. If Marcus was there he would probably make fun of how cheesy he sounded and how soft he was. The problem was that Marcus wasn't there and Peter didn't know how much longer he could handle his absence without news. 

If that was how his job worked, Peter already knew that it would be a huge problem. He never did well without knowing where the people he cared for were. After losing so many friends in the field and even back home due to PTSD and how badly the veterans were treated, Peter would admit he had a problem with people disappearing from his radar. He and Marcus had to find a way to work around what could be a huge issue for them. 

That, of course, would happen after Marcus was back with Tomas. If it God was the one who sent Marcus after Tomas, Peter didn't really want to think of what conditions Marcus could find his protege. He didn't know how God usually worked but he could imagine that if Tomas was fine, he wouldn't have called for a rescue. 

Even his mind, forged by the too many wars he had seen and the too many deads he counted both between friends and enemies, wasn't ready for what he saw when he left the kitchen as soon as he heard his truck coming to a stop right in front of the house. 

He was on the porch before he remembered he wasn't wearing socks or shoes and the icy cold concrete helped to keep his mind clear while he ran to the car as soon as he saw Marcus struggling with a barely moving heap of dirty and torn clothes that hardly covered Tomas' body and his injuries.

"What the hell happened?" 

Probably he got it right even if only by chance. Whatever had its way with Tomas could only come from hell or a very disturbing nightmare. The poor man was in a pitiful state and he looked devastated in body and spirit if his empty eyes were of any indication. Peter couldn't even say if it was a good thing that they were open. They were unfocused and clouded, bloodshot and soulless. Peter had seen eyes like those on the faces of people subjected to tortures. Whatever happened to Tomas it wasn't good. One look at Marcus told him everything that Peter needed to know. Losing Tomas would mean losing Marcus too. 

When he took Tomas' weight from Marcus he didn't expect for his lover to growl at him but that was what happened. For a moment Peter remained frozen, looking at Marcus like it was the first time he saw the man. Somehow that was true, he never saw that kind of protectiveness coming out full force from Marcus. It was both shocking and beautiful. Right now Marcus was every ounce of the Lion that had been feared and Peter had to admit that was the hottest thing he could think about, even if now wasn't the moment. 

Marcus looked only slightly better than Tomas. In truth, the only difference was that he could stand alone. Right now Marcus looked like the first time Peter had met him, dark circle under his light eyes - that told him the last time Marcus had slept was the night before he took off looking for Tomas - and so tense that Peter knew if he touched him now, Marcus could snap in his hands like a dry branch. 

Peter knew he would have tried to put Tomas behind him and use his body as a shield. His long fingers were white from how tight his grasp was on Tomas' shirt. 

"Marcus?" He used a low, reassuring voice. Marcus was in a bad place with his mind and the wrong move on his part would end up in a fight that no one of them was in any shape to handle. "You're safe now. You brought Tomas home. You're both safe." 

Everything that he had learned in therapy was now being used to call Marcus back from wherever he was. Peter recognized the signs. Marcus was stuck on the battlefield. It was different from what Peter had seen and at the same time, it was the same thing. He still remembered his own episodes from when he believed he was back in Afghanistan, back fighting against enemies armed with homemade bombs, ready to die as long as they could bring as many invaders with them as possible. The need to protect his own, the younger boys who weren't ready to face that kind of horror was the strongest emotion in those moments, and Peter had been at his most lethal. Past and present mixed up, reality and nightmares made impossible for him to know where he was, he only knew he had to react and protect people who weren't there. During one of those episodes, he had almost killed someone. His only fault had been to try to call Peter back from his trance without knowing what was really happening. He had touched the lowest point of life when he woke up with a gun in his hand, aimed at his best friend's face. After that moment professional help had been his only option. 

Right now he was witnessing the same thing happening to Marcus. The need to protect Tomas was simply too strong and nothing would make him change his mind as long as he didn't realize he was safe. 

"Marcus?" Peter tried again, being careful not to touch him. He never know if it was by pure luck, or if it was because even so far gone, Marcus had recognized his voice, but Peter watched, fascinated, his eyes change - gaining back the fire that Peter so much loved and that kindness that bewitched him since the first time they met - and his body relax. To watch the man he loved going from a creature ready to kill to keep Tomas safe, to the gentle soul he had learned to know was the most beautiful thing Peter ever saw. 

"Welcome back, love." 

Marcus looked lost and a bit confused. Peter wanted to take him in his arms and kiss the air out of his lungs when his head tilted to the side, his huge eyes wondering what the hell had just happened. 

"Did I go somewhere?" 

"Just for a moment." There would be time later to explain what had happened. For now, their attention was needed somewhere else. 

"Can I help you with him?" he asked, looking at Tomas. He needed a warm place to be and a lot of rest. Peter was already thinking about how to feed him without upsetting his stomach, but first, a shower. The sooner they could get rid of the oppressive smell of blood and decay, the better. Peter knew that Tomas would feel a lot better once he was clean. His mind would react to the change in the outside stimuli and if they were lucky, they could even get a few words from him. Peter hoped that Tomas didn't hit the point of mutism already. There were stages of shock and he knew that if Tomas needed professional help, they all would be in trouble. Marcus was still a wanted man and Peter knew it was the same for Tomas. They didn't have many options left and could only stick together and hope for the best. 

"Did - did I growl at you?" 

Peter nodded a small smile, the only reaction that Marcus’ shocked gasp got. 

"It was my mistake. I didn't stop to think that you could still be high on adrenaline and try to take Tomas from you wasn't a smart move. I should have known better." 

"Don't you dare to beat yourself. I growled at you for Mary's sake." 

"You did, but only because I acted without thinking. Can we, for once, agree with me being at fault, or is this against your Catholic guilt?"

Marcus was left speechless by how well Peter was taking the shitstorm that he brought into his life once again. He was so shocked that this time he didn't even react when Peter took Tomas from him, carrying him inside bride style. Only the desperate whine from Tomas pushed him into motion and he was by his side, one of his too cold hand between his scarred ones, whispering calming nonsenses to him. 

***

Once inside Peter marched straight to the bathroom and let Marcus take care of Tomas while he fumbled with the hot water in the shower. A bath would have been better, but he didn't have a bathtub, so shower it was and he was pretty sure Tomas wouldn't mind one way or another as long as he could get clean. 

Watching Marcus interact with Tomas was both beautiful and heartbreakingly. Marcus was the kind of man born to take care of others and he did it with the ultimate kindness. Life had been unfair and cruel to him and yet it couldn't change his very nature. It was an honor, for Peter, to be allowed to watch something so intimate that made Marcus the man he fell in love with. 

Something threatened to break inside Peter and a lump formed in his throat when he saw the care that Marcus used to collect Tomas' collar. For a moment his soulful eyes were clouded with tears before Marcus gained back control over his emotions and let the little plastic strip go. That would be the only salvable thing and even if it wasn't, Peter knew neither Marcus nor Tomas would have the strength to get rid of it. It hurt him to know that Marcus still longed for what had been taken from him and a wave of irrational fear made his stomach roll. What if he could get back what had been stolen? Would Marcus leave him if God opened those blind idiots minds' and claimed back his husband? Wasn't that the role of a priest? Peter wasn't sure, but it sounded like the right way to explain things. Marcus had been loyal to God and only loved him for all the time he wore the same collar that he was keeping safe for Tomas. Wasn't the collar the ring that proved he was indeed married to God? His thoughts were getting too distracting and towards a path where Peter couldn't follow them. He knew too little about religion and hos the Catholic church worked to answer his own doubts. All he could do was to believe in Marcus and in what they had together. 

His focus was back on the water but he couldn't stop himself from looking at the interaction between Marcus and Tomas. At their feet was a pile of ruined clothes that Peter would throw away as soon as he had a moment. Tomas was too quiet, too lost yet to react to anything. Only when Marcus moved his hands went to him, silently begging him not to leave, to stay close. The more he looked at them, the more he could see a lion and his cub, both damaged, both broken in different ways and both part of the family Peter didn't know was already being built around him. 

Only when he deemed the water ready and hot enough to bring back some warmth into Tomas' body but not enough to hurt him, did he leave Marcus in charge of the shower and opted to start breakfast, again. What he was cooking before Marcus' arrival was now cold and there was only one thing worse than cold breakfast food, re-heated breakfast food. He also needed something to do while he waited for Marcus and Tomas to finish in the bathroom so that his instinct couldn't put him back in the room. His instincts were screaming at him to stay, to make sure that both Marcus and Tomas were okay and safe but he knew it was too soon. Tomas didn't know him and right now he needed what he already knew, someone who had made him feel safe in the past and who would do it again. Marcus was his friend and Tomas needed the stability given by someone he already trusted. Peter had to wait and learn how to gain his trust before he could do anything else. That part sucked but it was essential if he wanted to have a solid friendship with Tomas. 

*** 

Only when the door closed behind Peter Marcus was able to relax a bit. In his life, he had only loved God with the same intensity with which he loved Peter but with Tomas at his most vulnerable all his instincts raised and screamed at him to keep everyone away. 

Marcus felt the moment his muscles began to let go of all the tension gathered in every fiber of his body since the moment he stepped into the abandoned church. His mind was still struggling to deal with what his eyes had witnessed. Mouse, strong, beautiful Mouse, one of his biggest regrets in life and one of the few people he had called a friend and kept close to his heart, dead by the hands of whom should have led and protected her. That alone would have pushed him over the edge of blind fury but the time froze around him when he saw Tomas. His worst nightmares had taken physical forms. When he stepped closer and Tomas smiled - Marcus never thought that someone could have been so happy to see him and that a moment like that could turn into heartbreaks and desperation - a weak smile that shone in his dulled eyes. For a moment he saw the fire he so much loved in those eyes, but it only lasted long enough for him to see and mourn its loss. 

Everything else was a blurry mix of events that Marcus couldn't put in chronological order even if his life depended on it. Since the moment he had felt God's presence once again, his mind had been filled with words and visions and he had known Tomas was his priority. He had caged Bennett inside a circle so that the demon couldn't go anywhere near Tomas, ever again. It wasn't something he would do normally, but Tomas' safety came before everything else, even his own distorted ethic. For him and exorcist had always been a challenge. His faith and beliefs, his love for humanity and his trust in God, against everything that the demons represented. The ties he had used in the past were to keep the possessed safe and now he used something to keep Haniel away from Tomas. It was a change forced on him but Marcus accepted it. At first, she had mocked him, she had done everything in the book, used every little dirty trick she knew and when she realized that nothing was touching Marcus, that he was back into his old self and unafraid of her, it had been too late. 

Latin had flown from his lips with the same simplicity his British accent did. To call her out and force her to stay, taking the safety of hiding had been so easy that Marcus had been disappointed. A fallen angel of her status should have been harder to fight and to trick. Bennett had been chosen because he was a pure soul, he had really and firmly believed in God and his precepts, even in those dictated by men to control other men. Hamiel had seduced her way into his soul while he was in a coma, using the only woman he had loved in his life. Marcus was probably one of the few people who knew about her and was still furious that the demons had used something so dear to Bennett to make him fall into their hands. Years of fighting had prepared Marcus for the war that was now so close but not for fighting Bennett. Their friendship had always been strained by how different they were as men and yet it had lasted more than Marcus would have imagined when they first met. Bennett had been like Tomas in many ways, someone who believed in the Church and the individuals inside it. He had trusted their strength, that they would be able to fight to keep their souls free. Marcus had lost that naivety when he was still a child. He knew men better than that. He knew what power could do, what hunger for it would do to their souls and sadly he had been right. Amongst the higher ranks of the Church, only Pope Sebastian looked immune to the power of corruption that the Morning Star had shown, he was now so outnumbered that he was a prisoner between the walls of the Vatican. What should have been the safest place on Earth, was now a place were the enemies of God had free reign. 

For the first time during an exorcism, Marcus wondered if to free Bennett was the right thing to do. His soul would always carry the wound left behind by the possession. A part of him would be vulnerable and festering, ready to be taken again. But what was worse, was that once back in control, everything that he did while possessed would fall on him. His conscience would never accept that he wasn't in control. The loss of Mouse would weight on him so much and so deeply that with time, Marcus was sure he would be crushed. 

Bennett was strong, but he knew the friend he had known was gone. Once free he would either lock himself in contemplation, trying to make amends for something he didn't do, or he would become a ruthless fighter in the war they were already losing. In both cases the man he was before the possession would never come back again. In the end, the reason why Marcus chose to keep going was that he knew he couldn't allow Bennett to lose his immortal soul to a vile creature like Haniel. Hell would have been too happy to own something so rare and precious and Marcus would have never been able to forgive himself knowing that a friend was enduring eternal damnation because of his failure. 

Marcus wasn't ashamed to admit that her screams had been the most beautiful music he ever listened to, that her agony had been a balm able to soothe the pain caused by Mouse's loss. He was petty and spiteful and to kill her had felt good, almost too good for a man of God. Peter had taught him that the pleasure of the flesh wasn't a sin. That God wouldn't have created them with the capacity of feeling it if he didn't want for them to enjoy his gift. What he had felt while killing the demon that dared to touch his family was behind the pleasure he had learned to accept, it was something that belonged to another level of existence that should be forbidden to men and yet he felt it and couldn't find the strength to regret the joy that washed over him when Bennett's body dropped in his arms, exhausted and broken and also free from her influence. 

Leaving Bennett behind was hard and even to admit that as soon as he was free his mind forgot about everything else but Tomas was. It was the truth and Marcus never claimed to be a saint. He had done everything in his power for Bennett, now his life was in God's hands. Tomas was his to restore to health and wellness. his brother and family in more senses than just one. What was left of Marcus' energies belonged to Tomas and would be used to make sure he would recover. 

On the drive back home Marcus couldn't remember much, only that he had spent most of it throwing worried gazes toward the barely conscious figure on the sit by his side. The need to be sure he was still breathing, still with him even if Marcus had abandoned him -- that was one of the things he would never forgive himself for. It was there, side by side with Gabriel's death, two stains that couldn't be washed from his soul. 

Marcus wasn't sure of how, exactly, he was able to reach home without killing both in a car crash caused by distraction. God really wanted for Tomas to live if he didn't let Marcus' truck to drive into a tree or a wall. 

Now, here they were, in Peter's bathroom, while the man he loved was making breakfast and he was alone with Tomas who was too quiet, too broken and too light. It was like those demons had taken something from inside him and now was up to Marcus to put it back. The only problem was that he didn't know what Tomas had lost in their hands or what to do to help him. 

What he could do was to try to keep him warm and let the filth wash away from his body. His soul was a different and more delicate matter and Marcus had learned to start small. A sense of longing washed over him when he thought that Mother Bernadette would be shocked if she could see Marcus now. So different from the man she had met and helped. More human perhaps, more broken for sure and stronger for those reasons. 

Tomas followed him without complaint when with a care that he rarely showed if not with children, Marcus led him under the spray that what the right temperature and so good that made Marcus moan. Peter always knew how to soothe Marcus when he was upset, or in pain, or both. It looked like he was already able to read Tomas too. Perhaps God's gift to him was the capacity of reading broken priests - and former priests - like they were open books. 

To see Tomas this tame broke Marcus' heart. Even now, while safe and with the one person who would die for him, Tomas was hiding. His head was bowed and resting against Marcus' chest. His hair, longer than the last time he had seen Tomas, now heavy with water, hid his face. 

Marcus let him be for a bit, he decided to wait and see if Tomas would change his position but when nothing happened after a long time and all Tomas did was to let the water fall over his back, where the bones were too exposed for Marus' liking, he decided to take charge of things. 

"Can you look at me, love?" 

His voice was so gentle, almost begging Tomas for a reaction, for a sign he recognized he was safe now, that Marcus wasn't a trick of his mind, or worse, a vision that could be taken from him any moment now. Marcus was fighting tears now. They were illogical. Tomas was safe and in his care and this time Marcus wouldn't fail him, never again, and yet tears were choking him. 

"Love?" He tried again. This time his efforts were rewarded with Tomas' haunted eyes staring at him. He looked so young - no, not looked Marcus said to himself. He was young and he had stolen something from him - and so vulnerable. If the demons had seen him like that it was a miracle that Tomas was still himself. 

"Marcus?" A whisper that sounded like a prayer to which Marcus couldn't resist. 

"I'm here." 

"You came. I begged God to send you and you came." 

His voice was full of emotions and disbelief. Marcus knew those signs. He knew Tomas wasn't really sure he was there, that this was the reality. All he could do was to wrap his arms around him and let him feel his presence. 

Words could be twisted and corrupted, their meanings could be changed and misunderstood, but demons could never hope to recreate the warmth of a human hug, the gentleness of a touch shared by people who deeply trusted for each other and who loved with all the strength of their hearts. Both Tomas and Marcus were crying now, in relief yes but the tears were shared to remember the lost ones, Mouse and Bennett and Andy. There hasn't been time to cry him back when Marcus left and now they could mourn and say their goodbyes. Now they weren't alone anymore. Marcus would give Tomas the strength he lacked, he would be the wall against whom he could rest until the moment he was ready to be back on his feet, ready to stand on his own legs, but never alone again. 

Tomas' tears ran against Marcus' neck, where his face was now hidden, while Marcus left the water wash away his own. It was the most intimate they had been with each other and it felt right. What they were sharing was the closeness of brotherhood, two souls who had seen too much already and who needed a little time to rest now. 

Marcus tried to be delicate while washing off all the filth that covered Tomas. Seeing the muddy water running into the drains and disappear did something to ease Marcus' spirit and lose the weight that was crushing his chest. It was physical proof that he could do something to help Tomas to breath became a bit less impossible. 

They couldn't tell how long they had stayed under into the shower. At least now Tomas didn't smell like human waste and blood and so much sorrow that would have broken anyone else. Now he smelled like Peter's shower gel and Marcus' shampoo and that helped to placate some of his more basic instincts to protect and make sure that no one else could ever touch Tomas again. 

When the water turned cold, Marcus pushed Tomas straight into a towel waiting for them. He and Peter weren't men used to lush but they still knew how to use fabric softener - when they remembered it - during laundry day. It sounded so domestic but it was Marcus' life now. He had to worry about groceries and other daily nonsense that made him happier than he ever believed he could be. 

Perhaps, while drying Tomas, Marcus used just a bit of too much force but towards the end of their shower he had felt his body shake and was worried Tomas could get a cold on top of everything else. He always overreacted when worried, that wasn't a secret, not one that Marcus had tried to hide at least. 

When he moved to reach some clothes, Tomas' hands darted out to grasp Marcus, whatever part of him was close enough to be reached. That made harder the simple process of getting dressed. Black joggers and a white shirt - belonging to Peter - for Tomas and all black for Marcus, that was how they reached the kitchen and Peter waiting for them. Tomas clutched Marcus' arm like his life depended on how hard his grasp could be and Marcus didn't care one bit, as long as Tomas was under his sight and close enough to be protected if needed, he was happy to deal with what God decided to put in his plate this time. 

****

Tomas looked ready to collapse and Peter was glad he at least decided to join Marcus in the kitchen, now he just needed to make sure that at least a bit of what he had cooked ended up in his stomach before he would pass out for exhaustion. It was a small miracle that he didn't already. Perhaps Tomas was stronger than he looked like right now, but Peter had a bad feeling that he was fighting sleep for another reason. 

When he put a bowl of steaming porridge under his nose, he wasn't really surprised when Tomas didn't immediately sink his spoon in it. He looked at Marcus - his source of safety now - and only when Marcus nodded his head he began to eat. 

The first time he met Marcus, Peter had met a man with a never-ending amount of love in his heart and no way for him to express it. He liked to think that in the months spent together, something had changed deep inside Marcus. Now he was more open with showing his emotions. Tomas needed to see that Marcus cared, that he was there for him and the way Marcus' hands never left his shaking body, was it with a brush of their hands or one hand wrapped around the back of his neck, proved how ready Marcus was to take care of him. 

"Thank you." A whisper. Tomas didn't even raise his head when those words were spoken. Peter didn't know if he was thanking Marcus for his presence or him for the food. It didn't really matter. 

"Don't even mention it." 

It was good to hear his voice. Shock was a terrible monster, able to creep on you without notice, hard to fight and to overpower. Mutism would have made things even worse, not that now everything was fine, far from it, but at least Tomas had the possibility to tell them what he needed. It didn't mean he would, if he was as stubborn as Marcus claimed, they were going to need a lot of tricks to make him see he could talk freely. 

Knowing what happened to him would help; Marcus knew, it was written in the way his eyes clouded with tears every single time he looked at Tomas. Peter was walking blindly on a path that he never explored before. It was hard but not impossible. Torture was torture even when to inflict it was a demon and not a man. As long as Tomas stayed in his house Peter was responsible for his well being. 

A sad smile turned his lips. He could already see his near future full of sleepless nights and heartbreaking screams. Nothing different from what he already survived. A man should never get used to that kind of suffering but life was unfair and this time Tomas was paying the price of that truth. 

Tomas ate like a bird, something else that didn't surprise Peter. His eyes became heavier and heavier and his head kept wavering. Oh yes, he really was stubborn. 

"Why don't you two go to lay down while I clean the kitchen?" 

The place was stainless, Peter had spent all the time Marcus was away cleaning every inch of the whole house so nothing was out of place. It was a small miracle that Marcus was so focused on Tomas he forgot to call out his bullshit. Everyone had a way to fight stress and Peter's was cleaning around. A less dangerous way to destress that what a veteran could come out with, in his opinion. 

****

After he spent too long simply staring outside the window - hoping that nature could help to calm him down like always, only to find out this time there was no cure   
for the uneasiness waking into his mind - Peter reached the living room and there he saw something that made him smile and broke his heart at the same time. 

Marcus and Tomas were curled up on the couch. Somehow Marcus had managed to wrap himself around Tomas, protecting and hiding him from the world. Tomas was pressed between Marcus' chest and the back of the couch. It was too small for two grown-up men and the couch would kill their back but they were out like lights and Peter didn't have the nerve to wake them up. If Marcus chose the couch and not their bed meant he remembered all too well the first time he had had a nightmare after moving in with Peter. It had been bad enough that Peter ended up with a black eye and Marcus with even more guilt to weight on him. It also was the moment Peter had realized that Marcus was stronger than what his lean body let imagine. 

Peter could only hope a smaller space made Tomas feel safe and not trapped and that Marcus' warmth would do something to keep the nightmares away. They needed all the rest they could get. Peter knew that nights would be Tomas' enemies for a long time so if he could rest during the day all the better. 

For someone who never really believed in God, it wasn't hard for a prayer to form in his mind. Whoever was out there to listen better to make sure to keep an eye on the two people sleeping on his couch or Peter would be greatly disappointed. 

*** 

"Are you okay?" 

It was a stupid question but Peter couldn't keep his silence looking at how distressed Marcus was. He was sitting on their bed, his face hidden in his hands and he was shaking like he did the first time he opened up about his past. 

Emotions came in waves from his body. Rage - for what had been done to someone he loved - fear - of not being enough - and undeniable pain brought to him by his empathy. Marcus had always been the most sensitive person Peter had ever met. It had shocked him how much Marcus could feel, after what he had learned about his past, Peter was stunned that Marcus could love so much. No one could hold against him if he turned out cold and distant. it didn't happen and the result was right in front of him now. 

"I don't know what I'm doing, Peter." 

Marcus didn't know how to ask for help, so Peter had to learn how to read him, how to read his words and the way his voice changed when he was struggling. Those words were a scream for help and Peter had to suppress the surge of rage he felt boiling inside. How many times did people ignore those signs? How many times was Marcus left alone to struggle with emotions no one ever taught him to handle? 

It was a good thing that those questions would always remain without an answer, or Peter knew he would do something stupid. He couldn't change Marcus' past, all he could do was to be by his side here and now. 

"We'll figure it out, together." 

There wasn't a magic way to heal Tomas and Marcus knew it. Peter wouldn't try to make the pill easier to swallow, it would only be a waste of time that could and should be used to help Tomas. 

"He wasn't supposed to be the one broken. He was never supposed to live this life." 

Guilt. Guilt was an emotion that was always close to Marcus. It poisoned his mind with slimy tendrils and raised his ugly head every time Marcus was vulnerable. 

"It's not your fault," Peter grasped his wrists strong enough to make Marcus focus on him. His soulful eyes were now dull and Peter hated it more than words could explain. 

"Tell me you know it's not your fault, Marcus." 

He watched, like an eagle, Marcus open his mouth, ready to speak but nothing came out of it. He tried a couple of times before he bowed his head, defeated. 

"It's not," Peter kept pushing. He knew those words needed to be drilled into his thick skull if he wanted Marcus to understand it was the truth. 

"Whatever happened, it's not on you. It's on whoever did this to him." 

"I am the one who pushed him into this life. I knew he wasn't ready and yet I kept pushing and pushing until he broke." 

Peter was a man he always took pride in his patience, now he wondered why to bother when Marcus was the densest person he ever met and try to speak him out his guilt was like speaking to a wall. 

"And what would have happened if you didn't? Would he have stayed behind, safe in Chicago?" 

Marcus shook his head, that was the moment Peter knew he needed to keep going on with his words. 

"Then, wasn't it better you were there with him? At least he had someone by his side." 

"I left. I left him and look at what happened." 

Marcus could be the most frustrating creature ever born when he refused to see the truth in front of him. Peter took a couple of deep breaths before he opened his mouth again. 

Sometimes he wondered if taking Marcus by his shoulders and shake him, hard, wouldn't actually help his brain to understand that not everything in the world was his fault. More than once he had been tempted to do just that and only stopped because he suspected that violence had been used too many times on Marcus, under the false excuse that it was being done for his own good. 

"Tell me what to do, Marcus. Tell me what you need." When words couldn't work, when they were too weak to reach Marcus' core, Peter had learned that actions were the key. Marcus needed to see with his own eyes that Peter really was there to stay. 

It was one of the many contradictions that made him love Marcus even more. His trust laid with God. He believed in him unconditionally but when it came to trusting humans Marcus needed to see, he needed to touch with his hands - a new Saint Thomas - all because too many times humans had broken his trust and used words to lie to him. 

"Just -- just love me." That was a request Peter would always be happy to fulfill. 

"Always." A simple word, filled with all the emotions that having Marcus there, with him, brought into Peter's soul. 

Kneeling, Peter tugged Marcus' shoes, ignoring the laces, and pulled them off along with his socks, then he unbuckled his belt, teasing them both with anticipation. He had learned how much Marcus needed to be touched and showed he was loved. 

"You are beautiful," Peter whispered in his ear, in a warm wave of breath, still unable to understand what he did to deserve such a gift. His cock was already engorged, his lust fueled by Marcus' unique scent and the sinful picture he made, spread on his bed like a banquet only for him. 

He mouthed Marcus' Adam's apple, sucking at it like he was ready to devour Marcus whole. His teeth lightly scraped the sensitive spot and Marcus squirmed in pleasure. With Peter’s mouth marking his neck, Marcus couldn't hide from the compliment, he couldn't deny it when his mind was slowly turning to goo. 

Latching onto a nipple, Peter nipped at it before sucking on it as his hands finally moved back to Marcus’ trousers. He finished working on his belt and pulled them down over Marcus' hips. After they fell on the floor everything about them was forgotten. 

All the while, his mouth worked Marcus all over, making him moan and quiver under his touches, skin becoming slick with sweat, just from that painless torture. 

"Please, please, Peter --" 

Peter was used to Marcus' sudden shyness in bed. One day he would teach him how to ask for what he needed, that what he felt while they were together wasn't wrong or a sin. But today wasn't the right time. Today Marcus would get everything he needed without demands. 

Once his briefs met the same fate of his trousers and Marcus’ hard cock was exposed, Peter slid along his body and took him into his mouth. 

Marcus would always come quickly with his cock sucked and tormented by Peter's tongue. Just a bit of teeth and the hollowing of his cheeks, sometimes long fingers roughened by weapons and work that played with his balls, and Marcus would come down Peter's throat. Then Peter would suck harshly, making Marcus flinch at the rough treatment of his now sensitive flesh. 

Tonight Peter wouldn't stop there. Marcus needed everything he had to give, he needed to be comforted and pinned down and fucked until he was incoherent and unable to think. 

"Don't hold back," Peter said as only warning before he helped Marcus to throw his long legs over his shoulders. Positioned like that, bending him to expose his hole was almost too easy. 

Peter pressed his fingers into Marcus' crack, teasing and probing without pushing inside. He loved how Marcus' body reacted to him now, how he relaxed under his ministration. Pushing his face between Marcus' thighs, Peter began to lap at his entrance. 

Slowly, his tongue became bolder and more demanding. Marcus' muscles gave up under the neverending assault. His stomach twitched and spasmed, unable to relax. Every inch of Marcus begged for a release that Peter wasn't ready to offer yet. 

A smirk began to form on Peter's face and it was a sin that Marcus couldn't see how devious Peter looked now. Without allowing his lips to leave Marcus' most hidden part, Peter unzipped his own trousers, freeing his cock from the cage of clothes and metal. 

Marcus labored breathing covered every other sound and Peter knew that he needed to be inside him as much as Marcus needed to be taken and marked by his cock. 

Squirting the lube directly on his cock, Peter didn't care about the mess, all he cared for was his need to take Marcus, to reaffirm the physical connection between them. 

When his cock was ready and messy, matching Marcus relaxed hole, Peter aligned it to Marcus' hole but before he moved he looked at his lover, locking their gazes and asking for permission. Only when Marcus nodded did Peter finally thrust in. Marcus sobbed in relief like a part of him was still scared that Peter would deny him, that he could take away the closeness he so desperately needed. 

"I love you, Marcus," he whispered softly before he took Marcus’ mouth in a hungry kiss. The need to have everything of Marcus was so intense that it scared Peter. He had never been a possessive or jealous man, but for Marcus he was. For a long moment, they didn't move. Their bodies were one, Peter was so deep in Marcus it was impossible to say where one began and the other ended, and it was good, it was what they both needed right now. 

"Please," Marcus begged again and Peter began to move in a slow rhythm that would drive both of them crazy. Marcus locked his legs behind Peter's back, bringing him closer, caging him like he wasn't going to let him free ever again. 

Their gazes stayed locked while they made love. The connection they shared wasn't only of the bodies but also of the minds. 

And when Peter came inside him, marking him once again, claiming Marcus in the most intimate way, Marcus cried, finally free to feel without the fear of being judged. 

***

Tomas didn't mean to, but God forgive him, he was now listening to Peter and Marcus making love, and for the first time since he was free from that abandoned church and its horrors, his mind wasn't filled with nightmares and memories too painful to handle. 

How could people think that what Marcus and Peter had was dirty and wrong, that God would never accept such love? 

He should be ashamed to violate the privacy of the two people who housed him when he had nothing left, who made space in their lives to adjust to his presence. His face was burning, but he couldn't stop. 

His eyes were closed while the quiet noises of shared love, quieter than what Tomas had imagined and experimented for himself, lulled him into a state of peaceful relaxation. Nights were his enemies now and sleep didn't come to him as a friend anymore, and yet, tonight knowing that Peter and Marcus were so close, that they were alive and safe, Tomas let his consciousness fade away, and he abandoned his body to a coveted but feared rest. 

With the sound coming from the bedroom, no nightmare came to Tomas. It was as if, even when lost in each other, Marcus and Peter were still there to protect him, to make him feel safe like never in his life. 

Since that night, Tomas could sleep only listening to them. He didn't have the bravery to admit his sins. God was the only witness to this new turning of his life. He was being punished for all the years he had spent living in a lie. He wasn't strong, he wasn't destined to many great things. He was a liar and a coward and he didn't deserve the comfort that Marcus and Peter were unconsciously offering him with their love. 

No, Tomas Ortega was a fake, he wasn't real. His faith had been a lie he had told his abuela, the Church a way to escape a life of misery in a country that was never his. God kept him alive, he gave him a mission that Tomas wasn't strong enough to handle but he would try until his last day on Earth. Everything to be allowed to keep Marcus and Peter a bit longer. 

***

Today was a bad day. It had been since morning, and it didn't get better during the evening. Once again the night was his enemy and Tomas woke up shaking. His body covered in sweat and his heart racing in his chest so hard it hurt. He still had his hands clasped over his mouth but the scream that escaped, his desperate call for Mouse, was still echoing in the whole house when Marcus appeared at the threshold. 

The tears that were pooling in his eyes began to run as soon Marcus took him in his arms like he would never let him go. 

Tomas cried against Marcus' chest. All the pain and desperation purged out of his body washed away by tears that were both painful and liberating. An offer to Mouse and her memory, a promise to never forget that she was by his side when he had needed a friend the most, to never forget her and live his life like she couldn't, keeping to do what God called them to in her name too. 

Marcus let him cry in the safety of his embrace. His soothing voice lulled Tomas, made him understand that he wasn't alone, but what he said was a long string of calming nonsense aimed to keep the deepest part of his mind anchored to reality while everything else in Tomas let it go. 

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Marcus. So sorry." 

He finally said what was weighing on his soul. Admitting that he felt responsible for what had happened to Mouse. He had failed her. He didn't find a way to make her see she wasn’t alone anymore. All the rage born from her past, from her loss, from the love she still felt for Marcus that went sour when he had left without an explanation, Tomas couldn't take any of it from her, and she had been defeated by what gave her strength for so long. 

"It's not your fault, love. You have nothing to be sorry about." 

"I let her die." 

Because he wasn't strong enough to keep fighting for her when she had lost hope. Because he wasn't enough to give her a reason to keep the fire that forged her. 

"You did nothing like that. Her death is not on you, love. They killed our Mouse and they'll pay for that." 

Tomas wasn't sure that what Marcus was saying was the truth. The demons had killed her but he let them take Mouse. He hadn't been strong enough and had let his visions obfuscate his mind. He had been arrogant, thinking he knew better and that caused her demise. 

"Let's pray, Tomas. Let's ask the Holy Virgin to show you the truth and the way to keep going." 

Yes. Tomas could do that. Tomas always found peace while praying, and the love Marcus had for the Virgin Mary was beautiful to see. It filled his every word and every action, it showed in every stroke of his long fingers over the grains of his rosary. Marcus’ love was pure and strong and Tomas needed to drink from it, to take it inside his soul and let that love heal his spirit through the kind intervention of the Mother of God. 

Marcus helped Tomas on his knees and took place by his side. They shared the rosary that Marcus used now and slowly the air was filled with the words calling the kindness of Mary above them and the tension brought by the nightmare and the scream left, overpowered by a sense of peace and wholeness. 

From the door, silent and protective, Peter watched over the two men in his care while a thought formed in his mind. Perhaps they all could heal. Perhaps not everything was lost. 

*** 

Since the moment Tomas entered his house and his life, Peter had tried to be a comforting presence without pushing the boundaries dictated by courtesy.

Peter was there for Tomas if he needed something, present in his everyday life, but that wasn’t enough to be a part of the new routine that Marcus and Tomas now had. 

They would start and finish the day with prayers. Whenever Tomas needed time and space, Marcus would give them to him with the same ease he offered his presence and comfort. Theirs was a friendship forged by adversity overcome together through a common goal, a common belief. 

He wanted to be a part of Tomas' life but without intruding in something so foreign to him. That was why he decided to try something new. 

His impromptu decision was what brought Peter and Tomas to the middle of the forest. Tomas could use some fresh air, he had been hidden inside the house for days now and his skin had the same shade as scattered ashes and it couldn't be healthy for someone so young to hide like an old recluse. Peter had let it go as long as he deemed necessary for Tomas to gather back his strength and get ready to face the outside world again. His own experiences taught him how to read the signals. 

Tomas was walking the tricky line between being unable to leave the house without a panic attack and the unconscious decision to stay sick because it looked like a better option than to face his own demons and fight to take back the life he had had before. It was the easy way out but only in appearance. After a while, that mindset would destroy Tomas, as bit by bit what had made Tomas the man he was would disappear until only an empty shell was left behind. At that point, only a miracle could save him, and Peter was more prone to trust a man's strength and his need to feel better than something he couldn't hear or see or help with in any way. 

Tomas was a silent presence walking by his side, lost in his thoughts or trapped within his memories, Peter couldn't say. It was time for him to speak, sometimes doing it with someone who doesn't share a deep connection with you and is still a friend was easier than to show vulnerabilities to the one who knew you better than anyone else. 

"You want to go back." Peter was never a fan of small talking. Tomas didn't need to be coddled, what he needed was to know that people still believed in him and his ability to see his own limits. 

"You think Marcus won't understand, that he'll try to change your mind." 

Peter could understand people thought Marcus was intimidating even if he would never agree. What was so clear to his eyes was his need to keep the people he loved safe without caging them. 

In Marcus' eyes, Peter was safe if he was as far away from demons as possible and they didn't know about his existence. With Tomas it was different. Tomas was safer if he was always under his watch. Marcus would never give up his job. It was a call he had answered when he was still a child and that he would honor until he had the strength to do it. That meant that Tomas would be allowed back by his side. Marcus had lost him once already, he had left Tomas alone and it didn't end well so it wouldn't happen again. 

"What if I'm not ready? What if I fail again and this time it will be Marcus to pay the price?" 

Peter chose a meadow as their stop. It was a place he had discovered years before and elected to be his sanctuary. When life was too much and he needed a break, he would bring an old quilt - the same he had now - and a book, and stay outside until he could breathe again. 

The quilt was a gift from a friend. Someone Peter had deeply loved. Their roads had parted and Peter had been left with a beautiful memory of their time together. He had taught Peter how to take care of himself, how to find joy in the smaller things of life, like a quilt, indeed. It was time to see if it could help someone else like it had helped Peter. 

He sat down and waited for Tomas to do the same. A small victory was represented by how close Tomas chose to sit, close enough for Peter to know that Tomas trusted him. 

"Tomas, I don't know you well enough to know what goes through your mind. What I know is that Marcus trusts you." 

Marcus didn't trust anyone without a good reason. There were so many walls around him, so many hidden rooms and nooks in the persona he showed to the world, that it was almost impossible to see the real Marcus if he didn't want to show himself. Like Peter, Tomas knew Marcus at his purest and that could only mean he was trusted. It was time for Tomas to realize what a gift that was. 

"He shouldn't. I don't trust myself, Marcus shouldn't trust me neither." 

"It's not your decision to make." 

"It should be. If I can't trust myself, I can't make sure he'll be safe with me." 

Peter sighed, loudly. It was like talking to Marcus all over again. Were all the Catholic priests so devoured by guilt that they couldn't see they were drama queens? 

"Are you suicidal?" 

That caused the reaction Peter was looking for. Tomas froze, head turned mid-way, mouth slightly opened and eyes owlishly wide. Peter would laugh if the moment wasn't too delicate for that. 

"What?" He stuttered. "Are you crazy? Of course I'm not." 

Ah, good old Catholic boys, they could exorcise people and face demons, but suicide still had the power to scare them to death. It was a good thing that not many priests choose to serve as military chaplains. They wouldn't last a whole round. 

"Then you wouldn't do anything that could cause your willing death, right?" 

Pushing was one of his specialties. It also was the only way he could handle Marcus sometimes. 

"I already told you I'm not suicidal." 

Tomas was kind of cute, with his feathers - or was it fur, him being a lion cub? - all ruffled. 

"Then you won't be a danger for Marcus. Your instincts will be focused on survival, even more, if he's with you." 

"Why do you trust me with his life?" 

"Because I know you love him. Tomas, life is not fair, it doesn't give you anything for free. Your call in this life is to serve your God with Marcus. Believe me, I would love to keep him - and you - safe were I can do something to protect you two. I would love for him to give up something so dangerous but I won't be the one who demanded this from him." He loved Marcus for the passion he always showed about his job. He wasn't interested in a beautiful bird unable to fly. To cage him would be the same as killing Marcus Keane, Peter couldn't be the one guilty of such a crime. "If you're together, at least I know you'll do everything you can to protect each other. It's not much, it won't probably be enough but it's the only hope I have." 

"You're a strange man, Peter." 

"You've no idea." He laughed while answering and the tension between them evaporated like fog under the sun. 

All of a sudden, in the middle of nothing, sitting on a well-loved quilt, a veteran of the army and a priest found out they had more in common than what they could imagine. No more was said; a familiar sense of easiness descended on them and they enjoyed the rest of their evening outside. If there was a way in which families were created, Peter was ready to believe that this was a beginning for them. 

***

Marcus didn't ask questions when they came back but he gave them the eye when both began to shiver. 

"If you get sick, you're on your own," Marcus mumbled between his teeth while he was already looking for warmer clothes they could wear. "Staying outside so long, what were you thinking? I promise you, Peter, if he gets sick, you'll be the one sleeping on the couch." 

Tomas risked choking on his tongue while trying not to laugh. 

"You do remember the bed is mine, right?" 

"It wouldn't be the first time I kick you out of it, right?" 

After that, Peter wisely decided not to challenge Marcus more. The man could be vicious when protecting his cub. 

*** 

Things were getting tense in the house. Tomas knew it, but there was nothing he could do. If only Marcus or Peter came to him, he would try to help. 

Every time Tomas walked into a room, both would stop talking. That wasn't even the worst. The worst was when they were whispering and plotting and throwing gazes towards the door to make sure he wasn't close enough to hear. As soon as they saw him or even suspected he was coming they would disappear. Whatever was going on was related to him and it killed Tomas that they were arguing because of him. 

While he was alone with Marcus, things looked okay and felt the same as before. They decided to accept a job a few days after his talk with Peter. 

It had been something easy. For once they were called as soon as things began to look too strange. The demon had been weak, a lower rank who played a game he wasn't ready for. It had been good for the moral and to shake the rust from Tomas' bones and mind. 

Their old chemistry came back full force. They could still understand each with just a gaze, words weren't needed and the demon wasn't skilled enough or strong enough to use their weakness against them. 

After that first time back together, coming back home to Peter had felt natural and good. However, as soon as the came back, Tomas knew that something was changing. 

Was he causing troubles between Marcus and Peter? They kept treating him like always, it was in the dynamic between them that Tomas could see some changes he didn't understand.

Every time he tried to talk to them they kept telling him that everything was fine and there was nothing he had to worry about, the only problem was that he was Latino and Catholic, worried was his default status, above all when he realized he saw Marcus and Peter as his family now. He wasn't strong enough to think about how he was probably delusional and would be laughed at if he told them that. 

So he worried and kept his emotions bottled up, making sure to be out of their way as much as possible while living in their house and treasuring every moment they allowed him to spend with them. Memories were a powerful weapon, the happy ones more than the bad ones. Tomas was creating his armory for the future, for when he would be alone again.

*** 

Tomas was tired and at the same time, he felt good. It was the first time in too long that he could say that and wasn't in a constant state of uneasiness. He was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, that was what always happened and he wasn't going to be unprepared this time. That gave him focus and a purpose. He would be vigilant and see the moment something would try to take everything from him and would fight whatever dared to even try to make his life hell once again. 

Life had been good with Marcus and Peter. He found a family he wanted to keep, one that wouldn't turn its back to him because of his job or his visions or how strange he became. Tomas would give everything to keep Marcus and Peter by his side but nothing good last forever and Tomas was ready to face the music if needed. This time he wouldn't lose the people he loved without a fight.

Marcus behind the wheel was a menace - Tomas still held a grudge against the unilateral decision that he should be the one in charge of driving. He could make a list of all the times they almost crashed because Marcus decided that traffic laws were overestimated - but no, Peter owned the truck and that, apparently, gave Marcus power over it. 

They were coming back from a job. A mess of screams and broken bones and too many tears. This time the demons targeted a whole family. Father, mother and two young boys, twins, six years old. One night Bennett had called Marcus out of the blue, gave him a name and an address and when Marcus had asked him where he was, Bennett had hung up the phone on his face. 

Tomas could understand that he was still struggling. Marcus had told him he was back to Africa, looking for his past and making amends for something that wasn't even his doing training new exorcists who could work outside the official Church at least until the moment the Vatican would be safe again. Tomas knew Marcus had missed Bennett, but he never tried to reach out to him. 

If there was something that Marcus took very seriously, it was free will. Bennett, in his opinion, had all the right to seek isolation and peace in order to find himself again and Marcus would always respect that. He went through something similar after Andy's death and looking at him now, Tomas knew the break worked for Marcus. They could only hope it would work for Bennett too. 

What they found after his call was worse than what they had thought. What had looked like a job that wouldn't require more than a few days, lasted weeks. Demons were getting bolder and bolder and this time their filthy claws sunk into the souls of the two children. From there, like a disease, it spread to the parents who were trying to heal them. 

The desperate call for help had reached them when the possession was already strong enough that one of the children was on verge of losing the fight against the vile entity that went after his soul. Tomas had been desperate and reckless. On the field, he was the same wild cub that Marcus had learned to love and tolerate, so different from the man he was in the safety of their home. There Tomas was quiet and reserved, a bit shy, too, like he had been in Chicago before everything began. 

His thoughts were running in circles. He chastised himself for calling Peter's home theirs. Marcus and Peter were together and Tomas was happy for them. Marcus deserved the love Peter could give him, and Peter found someone who would always feed his need to provide for others. Marcus had been alone and starving for affection for so long that Peter would always have his hands full with him. His naivete had died hard and fast after his ordeal with Mouse. 

Tomas knew that Peter and Marcus were only amusing him, they were worried about his mental state and unwilling to let him out of their sight but that was all. They were a family of two and Tomas was a friend, sometimes a guest, but not part of it. To hope for more would make him greedy and the sins already staining his soul were enough even without adding one of the Capitals to them. he would take what was willingly given and would make the best out of it without demanding for more and trying not to impose his presence. 

"You're miles away, love. Is everything okay?" 

Tomas smiled at Marcus' voice. He had started to call him love since he brought him into Peter's house, like a stray pup found under the rain in the middle of a congested road, and never stopped. It made Tomas feel warm inside, loved like he never felt after he had lost his abuela. he would never give up the privilege of being called that and new that if Marcus ever stopped, for whatever reason, he would fade away like a plant denied the light. 

"Just thinking. It was a bad one." Stealth wasn't his stronger suit and he knew that but Marcus was tired - both were exhausted but had decided they didn't want to stay in the city a moment longer than strictly necessary - and perhaps wouldn't pay too much attention to what Tomas was doing. 

"They are getting stronger." Marcus agreed. 

"Why the children? Why always the children, Marcus?" 

It was something that deeply distressed him. This was the fourth time they had been called to exorcise someone, and it had always been children. The official Church - stronger and more corrupted with every passing day - was hunting down any exorcist who dared to cross their path with renewed ardor. 

"Because of how much God loves them, Tomas. Our Lord taught us that the children are his beloved. He taught to the adults but always allowed the children to listen and learn. They can be the hope for a better future and that exposes them to the peril of being targets." 

Tomas could see the logic in Marcus' words but couldn't shake the feeling that demons possessing children was the ultimate proof that they were all a bunch of cowards going after those who couldn't protect themselves. 

"Children are the true believers, Tomas. They believe with all the ardor of their innocent souls. They aren't stained by doubts or malice. For a demon that represents the higher trophy. To ruin something so pure is worth their king approval. Never forget that their actions are aimed to praise their Master." 

"We almost lost one of the boys." It had only been by miracle that Tomas had reached the demon before he could destroy his soul and trap him long enough for Marcus to ban him.

"I know." Marcus' voice was stained by regrets and fear and his hands were white for the force used to grasp the wheel. Tomas patted his leg, comforting him without words and without suffocating him with too many attention. Marcus was still a creature of habits and he was used to be alone after a job. The few months spent with Tomas on the road didn't change that and they were still working on gaining back the camaraderie that had began to form back then. They were closer now than they were before and yet there were parts of their everyday life they didn't know how to share with the other. Marcus gladly gave all the comfort Tomas needed but it was still hard for him to accept when it was Tomas to offer the same. 

The silence became oppressive and Tomas struggled with it. His hands couldn't stay still and he began to lightly touch everything he could reach, be it the cold glass of the window, or the smooth leather of the seat -- Peter loved his truck. he often joked that it was the true love of his life and Marcus should feel honored he was allowed to touch his baby. That always ended up with Marcus pouting and Peter kissing him better. 

It was one of the things Tomas liked the most, how freely both Marcus and Peter showed their feelings. They didn't care about what people could think of them. They knew how fragile life could be, how easy it was for too many things to destroy a moment of happiness, be it a demonic possession, or human cruelty, happiness was a delicate thing to handle, too rare to be wasted. 

Tomas felt honored he could be a witness to those moments of pure joy Marcus and Peter shared. That didn't mean they didn't fight like two men who knew the meaning of loss and were terrified by the possibility of suffering again. Those were the moments Tomas hated the most. 

Both Marcus and Peter were too stubborn to admit they couldn't imagine a life without the other, not now that they had met the other half of their souls. More than once that and the self-loathing that still lurked inside Marcus, in the deepest part of his mind, hard to reach but always ready to strike, like a snake hidden in the grass, had cause fights that scared Tomas more than any demon could. He was emotionally invested in Marcus and Peter's happiness. 

He knew it wasn't healthy to let his balance and stability depend on someone else but he didn't know how to stop the circle that began to form the moment Peter had accepted him into his house and into the life he shared with Marcus and, in all honesty, he didn't want to. It was his life and after everything he went through to help others, after everything he had to leave behind to protect the people who couldn't handle how his life turned upside down, he thought he had the right to live it like he wanted. So yes, he wanted his friends to be happy so he knew that at least one things in his life hadn't been ruined by his mere presence. 

Before they took their leave for this new job, Marcus and Peter had had a spectacular fight. Peter's troubles with being forced to stay back without news, unable to make sure that Marcus would be okay, prevailed over his logical mind. He knew that Marcus knew what he was doing, that he was damn good at his job but that didn't change that Peter worried, always and terribly. Every time Marcus and Tomas left he didn't know in what state they would come back if they would even come back. That night it had been too much. tension had built for days now and Marcus telling him they were leaving for an unknown amount of time was the last drop. 

"Marcus, I swear on your God, if you leave this house now, don't bother coming back." 

Marcus had the bad habit of leaving in the middle of an argument. It was a defense, Tomas had learned it with time and a lot of observation. Marcus preferred to go away before his mouth could spit words he didn't mean, harmful and full of poison. For way too long words had been his only way to protect himself and he became good at using them as weapons. 

Marcus was the living proof that words could kill more than a sword. He never meant to use that against Peter, so he usually left but that night his behavior only pissed Peter even more. It had been ugly and the words used had been terrible and used to hurt. Neither of them had kept back. Tomas could still hear their shouts and even the memory of the fight brought back tears in his eyes. 

Marcus had promised that everything was okay between him and Peter. Tomas had believed after seeing with his own eyes Marcus leave the room where the boys had been locked for their protection. In any other moment, Marcus would have never left even if the exorcism didn't begin yet. This time he did. 

He left the room with his phone in his hand and Tomas knew he would call Peter. When he came back he was different, lighter. A weight had been taken from his shoulders and Tomas had believed his words when he claimed that everything was fine now. He had also heard Marcus saying "I love you." before the call was ended so he never doubted that it was the truth. 

Now he had doubts. "Where are we going?" He asked, alarmed. That wasn't the road to reach the house. They were going in the opposite direction and his heart dropped straight into his stomach. What the hell was going on?

"If this is about your misplaced sense of Catholic guilt Marcus, I swear to God I will drag your skinny ass into a church, right now, and have a priest telling you, once and for all, that God doesn't care who you love, as long you do it with a pure heart." 

"My ass is not skinny." Marcus was barely able to say before Tomas' rant began again. 

"You will turn this car around right now, and while you drive back, I will tell you exactly why you're going to beg for his forgiveness. Whatever you have done, Marcus, he'll forgive you. Peter is mad about you, God only knows why, but he's in love with you. We are going to stop at a nice diner, and you're going to buy him dinner." 

Tomas had a plan and Marcus wouldn't ruin it. It was for his own good and him better to accept every single word of advice - not that he was an expert, but he still was better than Marcus at relationships - and do exactly what Tomas said. 

"You will do whatever will be necessary for Peter to take you back and I swear, if you argue or try to jeopardize this for yourself, I'll be the one who'll kick your ass." 

"You got an obsession with my ass?" 

Tomas didn't appreciate the joke and hoped that the cold gaze he threw at Marcus made sure he understood that it was better for everyone if Marcus kept his mouth shut. 

He was so pissed he couldn't even remember the last time he had been so pissed in his life. Perhaps it had happened even before he took his vows, before Jessica and all the mess that followed. It probably happened when he was still a child and resented his parents for taking him from everything he had known and sent him to Mexico, where he didn't know anyone and was utterly alone. 

"You will beg Peter to take you back because, honestly, you are a better man with him in your life. You're not as bitter as before and you finally realized that to be human is not a weakness but a weapon you can use against the demons we fight. What the hell were you thinking, Marcus? Losing him is madness." 

Of course, Marcus wasn't thinking. Every single time emotions were involved, Marcus refused to be an adult and regressed into a child, a sulky and dense child who couldn't see how lucky he was to have people who loved him in his life. 

"You will be on your best behavior and won't piss him off. You'll show him that you're serious and deeply sorry for whatever you have said that caused the break-up. You'll cover your head with ashes and will beg for his forgiveness on your knees if that's what he will demand from you." 

And if that bordered on blasphemy Tomas didn't care. Right now whatever had happened between Peter and Marcus was even more important than what happened between the Pope and The Emperor. That episode ended up with the Emperor on his knees, under a snowstorm, begging like a commoner to be left into the castle where the Pope would forgive him after three days of humiliation. If that turned Tomas into the Marchioness of Canossa, Tomas thought that there were worse figures in history he could weigh up to. 

Marcus was really pissing him off now. He was looking at him with a half smirk on his face and a raised eyebrow like he had any chance to walk away from the mess he created without a care in the world. 

"You think I'm kidding, Keane, but I'll kick your ass if you ruin the best thing you had because you can't admit you were wrong." 

Only when he was very pissed off at someone, did Tomas use their surname to address him. That was something he learned from his abuela. His butt still remembered what followed the terror-inducing call of his full name. If Marcus didn't stop the damn car right now, he would reserve the same treatment to him. Too bad Tomas didn't have a wooden spoon in the truck. His abuela used to carry one in her beg all the time. Tomas wasn't proud to admit he gave her many reasons to use it daily. 

"If you don't turn the car right now, I'll knock you off and you'll make the drive back locked in the trunk." That was a promise he would happily keep. The smug expression plastered on Marcus' face was beginning to rub him the wrong way and Tomas didn't appreciate when someone didn't take him seriously when he was mad. Too many had made the mistake to underestimate his rage only because he tried to be polite with people. 

"So, I'm going to buy Peter dinner, why not some flowers too?" 

That was the last straw, Tomas already had his hand raised to smack Marcus right behind his head when the car finally came to a stop. At least Marcus had done one damn thing he told him to. 

"Because you're not romantic enough to think about flowers. Peter would understand I was behind that suggestion." 

Then he realized that the car had stopped in front of a house. Tomas didn't pay attention to where they were going, but the surrounding was a bit different from what he remembered to see along the streets they had crossed. The place was peaceful and beautiful. It also was secured by the forest. A house that was a safe haven and a shelter. A home in the truest sense of the word. 

Tomas was confused. What was that place? And why was Marcus looking at him like a cat that got the canary? He was still pissed at him, but also curious. 

"Where are we?" He asked after a moment, the time he needed to form a coherent thought. 

"If you had shut your mouth for a moment, you would know," was Marcus' only answer. The man was out of the car before Tomas could react. Reluctantly he left the truck too but didn't know what to once his feet where on the ground again. He stayed there, side by side with Marcus, looking at the house in front of them, confused. 

It was a beautiful building. A two-story place with big windows that would catch the light in a spectacular way. An artist like Marcus would love that. 

When he was still lost in his mind, the door opened and a smiling Peter appeared, making Tomas' confusion even deeper. 

"Well? Why are you two still outside?" He asked with his arms crossed over his chest and a smile on his face. "It's still cold outside and I bet you two are exhausted." The last part was said with a bit of scolding but the smile was still there and Tomas was sure he wasn't really mad. 

"What's going on here?" Tomas spat before he could stop himself. Confusion didn't really agree with him lately, nit after the time he spent not knowing what was real and what was a trick. 

Peter looked at Marcus with questions written all over his face and his head crooked on a side. 

Marcus raised his hands in the universal sign of surrender. "Don't look at me. He spent the past twenty mins or something tearing my head off and telling me why I was an idiot for breaking up with you - no, to cause the break up between us - and I couldn't say a word before my voice was lost in his rant." 

"You found the time to claim that your ass is not skinny, but you couldn't tell me what's going on?" 

Tomas refused to move from his place. The truck behind him was warm and the cold air was causing him to shiver in a very uncomfortable way. He hated the cold and even more, he hated not to know what was happening. He had been ready for Peter and Marcus to ask him to look for a motel room any day now, but this wasn't a change that he had seen coming. Peter had been fond of his house -- and with good reasons. It had been the place he had built for himself after he rebuilt his life as a civilian after he overpowered the PTSD that almost made him kill his best friend- He had all the right to be proud of his place, so why was he there now? 

Peter was closer now, a comforting presence that Tomas was used to associating with safety and the notion of home. 

"Would you like to come inside?" He asked, and Tomas couldn't find in himself the force to deny Peter, to demand, once again, an explanation before he decided what to do. 

Peter wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer, while Marcus encircled his waist. Together they stepped into the house and Tomas had his breath taken away. If the place was gorgeous from the outside, inside it was even better. Someone had gone a long way to make it cozy and comfortable. The colors used to decorate were warm and gave a sense of peace of which Tomas was already fond. It was stupid. So damn stupid. He had known that Marcus and Peter had wanted a place to call theirs and he once again had to remind his stupid, traitor mind, that he wasn't a part of this family. He didn't even deserve it. He had left behind his own family - to protect Olivia and Luis - now, he didn't have any right to hope he could have a new chance to choose someone else. 

"So, what do you think?" 

A lump in his throat made hard for him to answer. Was this a test? Did God finally realize that he wasn't worth his time now that his lion was back, and showed him what could never be his? 

"It's - it's beautiful." He stuttered. There was no need to make a fool of himself in front of Marcus and Peter. As soon as he was out he could break down but not a moment before, he said to himself. He could do that. Just a few more minutes and then he would make up an excuse and run. 

They were still holding him and Tomas wanted to scream. He couldn't handle their kindness knowing they would soon ask him to go. A small part of his mind tried to question his sanity. Why would they do something so cruel? Perhaps there was another explanation for what was happening. Only, Tomas didn't have any strength left to hope for something that would be too good for him. He would amuse them a bit longer, let them show him around and then he would leave. It wasn't like he was planning to run away into the night and disappear. There was still his job and he would see Marcus and Peter regularly. He tried to look for the bright side but it was hard, so damn hard. 

Tomas didn't really register much of the house structure. He only paid attention to a room because they all were standing on the threshold, waiting. For what, Tomas couldn't tell so he did the only thing he could do to stop his mind from creating even more ways to hurt himself. He looked at the room and had his speaking faculties stolen from him. 

The room was - simply put - amazing. It wasn't a guest room but something furnished and decorated with a person in mind. It was personal and showed the love Marcus and Peter had for -- for him? But that couldn’t be right. 

"So, do you like it?" Marcus asked first. When Tomas looked at him he saw how eager he was for an answer, and shy too. "If you don't, we can change things." He said when Tomas wasted too much time to be utterly shocked. Why would they change things in their house if he didn't like them? And was Marcus crazy? How could anyone not like a room that was perfection?

"What?" He sounded dumb to his own ears but his brain stopped to work and refused to be of any help. 

"I think we broke him." Peter's amused voice provided the only possible explanation for his state. 

"We didn't break him, right love?" 

Tomas' head was spinning. His eyes darted from Peter to Marcus and back to Peter again. 

"Well, perhaps we did." Marcus' British accent was even more evident when he was trying not to laugh. His eyes shone, like Peter's. They were so happy and relaxed that Tomas' heart ached. He wanted to be a part of this. He needed them in his life like he needed air to live. 

"I will try again, being a bit more specific this time." Peter was always the practical one, one of the many virtues the man had. He needed to be in order to handle Marcus, Tomas thought, a bit amused too. 

"Do you like your room, Tomas?" 

The silence was so thick that a falling pin would be heard in the closer city too. 

"Now you really broke him," Marcus said while gently pushing Tomas into the room. His legs moved but he didn't tell them it was okay to. 

Tomas found himself sat on the bed, Peter, and Marcus by his sides. 

"You spent the past few weeks wondering when we were going to ask you to leave, right." 

It wasn't even a question, just an exposition done with sadness. Peter didn't deserve to have that kind of heartbreak happening in his life and Tomas hated himself a bit more for causing him pain. 

"I thought you wanted your life back. I know I'm a handful. On the field, I can still be useful, but when I'm not exorcising people, I'm clingy and I steal a lot of your time." 

A loud exhale of air sounded in the room but Tomas didn't look up to see which one of them was exasperated by him. 

"You do realize, right, we are grown men? One of us can even use his words to communicate." That was Peter, even if Tomas didn't know how voice he would have put his money on him. Marcus really didn't know how to communicate with people who weren't possessed or children. 

"We would have told you if we needed a break from you." 

That made sense; if Tomas had stopped to think for a moment and didn't allow his doubts and fears to take control of his emotions, he would have known that. 

"You were fighting the night we left. When I entered the kitchen you stopped talking. I," he stopped and took a huge gulp of air. When he was nervous he tended to forget that air was important. "I guessed you didn't want to tell me that I needed to leave." 

Peter's strong hand cupped Tomas' neck and his thumbs began to stroke the tension out of his trembling muscles. 

"I can see why they call you Marcus' cub. You are as stubborn as he is, and with the matching gift to misunderstand things that are right under your eyes." 

"We were fighting because I had promised to help Peter to decorate this room for you," Marcus admitted, taking part of the blame like a good Catholic boy. "But Bennett called and I knew we had to go. I left Peter to do all the work and he was pissed." 

"I was afraid I couldn't do it alone and in time for your return. I thought the job was supposed to last a few days, not a few bloody weeks." 

Tomas' head was exploding. Marcus and Peter didn't want him to go. They wanted him to stay and made sure he could have a place for himself inside their space. 

"You want me to stay." Only when he said it aloud everything that happened in the past few hours became real. The room, the time Peter has spent preparing him - while being worried about their safety too - the invitation to stay and make himself home. 

"You want me to have a room, in your house." He clarified, more to himself than to them. 

"Yes, Tomas. We want you to stay, we want you to have a room -- you'll thank me soon. Your back will be glad someone thought about the future. You are a part of this family, Tomas. It's time for you to realize and accept it." 

This time the tears wetting his face were of joy. For the first time since he was a child, Tomas felt he belonged somewhere. He wasn't alone anymore. He had a family who wanted him to stay and who didn't care about his nightmares and his visions. Peter and Marcus didn't care they would be woken up by his screams. They didn't care he would lurk in the kitchen, exhausted but unable to sleep. They understood him because they too weren't immune from night terrors and memories so painful they could tear minds apart. 

"Welcome home, Tomas." 

"Welcome home, cub." 

If their voices trembled and their eyes were wet with tears, only God could say, and he wasn't a spy. 

That night Tomas slept in his new bed - the door left ajar so that he could listen to Marcus and Peter and be sure he wasn't dreaming - exhausted in every way and emotionally drained. No nightmare dared to invade the safety of his newfound sanctuary. From above he was sure his abuela was smiling at him. 

He found a place to call home and he was still helping people as much as he could. The war was at the gates but he wasn't alone. With Marcus and Peter, Tomas knew he found something to fight for, something to win for. He wanted to come home to his family and no demon out there could ever corrupt his mind deeply enough to make him forget it. 

Marcus and Peter did more than put a roof over his head. They helped him to rebuild the walls around his soul. Demons would try again to find a way in, but this time they would find that what was once a weakness, was now a source of strength. He now knew that in order to save others he had to protect himself. He was loved, there was someone waiting for him at home. he couldn't be reckless anymore. If he got hurt, others would suffer. 

God himself had sent Marcus to rescue him once, he owed the man and Peter to fight harder not to lose himself. If God demanded his life, he would gladly give it for the greatest good, but until the moment the Lord decided it was time for him to go, Tomas swore to do everything in his power to be safe and come home. He owed at least that to the two men who helped to save his life in more ways than one. 

The first light of a new day found Tomas asleep, a smile on his face and Marcus' rosary still between his fingers. It was good to be home. 

END


End file.
